


I see the lights in your hands

by blackkat



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [96]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reform, Social Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Obito is ragged and vicious around the edges, a creature who breathes war even as he claws his way towards peace, and the only other time he ever looks at ease is when he’s surrounded by Konoha's children, letting them scramble over him and steal sweets from his pockets as he pretends at anger and offense.They love him, and Hashirama thinks it’s one of the reasons he’s come to love Obito so dearly as well.





	I see the lights in your hands

“I like him,” Tobirama says decisively.

Hashirama rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling a little, can't help himself. “You just like the headache he gives Madara,” he corrects, and Tobirama hums with absolute pleasure, smirking viciously.

Any other time Hashirama might chide his brother, remind him that they're all allies now, but he has to admit it’s vastly entertaining to see the bristling bundle of fury right up in Madara's face, shooting down every one of his ideas with vicious logic and browbeating the elders of both the Senju and Uchiha Clans without mercy. Uchiha Obito stormed the meeting room one day, snarling that children shouldn’t be soldiers, that orphans shouldn’t be expected to care for themselves and there was no reason to sustain a system that put _children_ on _battlefields_ , and Hashirama is fairly sure he fell in love in that very instant.

Obito certainly hasn’t changed his stance on anything, either, and it’s done ten times as much where implementing Hashirama’s dreams are concerned than arguing without him. He gets to take the position that sounds reasonable, gets to come across as moderate even as Obito breathes fury on his left, and he hasn’t ever managed to wring this many concessions out of his council before.

There's a loud snarl that draws his attention back to the argument, and Hashirama is just in time to see Madara spin on his heel and launch himself headfirst out the window with a scream of fury. On his left, Tobirama snickers, and Hashirama rolls his eyes, but moves away. Obito looks darkly satisfied, and there's something unspeakably beautiful about him in this light, in this setting. Something that makes Hashirama’s heart feel just a little too large for his chest.

“I take it you won?” he asks, chuckling a little as he nears, and Obito turns in surprise, eye widening. He catches sight of Hashirama and immediately relaxes, and Hashirama tries not to feel flattered. It’s difficult; Obito is ragged and vicious around the edges, a creature who breathes war even as he claws his way towards peace, and the only other time he ever looks at ease is when he’s surrounded by Konoha's children, letting them scramble over him and steal sweets from his pockets as he pretends at anger and offense. They love him, and Hashirama thinks it’s one of the reasons he’s come to love Obito so dearly as well.

“Well, I got the last word in,” Obito says, and the hard slant of his mouth softens with humor, turns into something sweeter. “Unless that shriek actually had words in it.”

“Even if it did, I don’t think they count,” Hashirama says, grinning brightly. “He was already halfway out the window.”

Obito laughs, and when Hashirama starts for the door he falls into step with him. “I don’t think restricting genin to Konoha's immediate area is a bad thing,” he says, and it’s the same edge of stubbornness that he has with Madara, but none of the anger. Hashirama’s often wondered why the Uchiha as a clan earns such vitriol from Obito, but he’s never wanted to ask. Obito has more scars than just the ones on his skin. “We don’t _need_ them taking longer missions until they make chuunin. It’s less experience, but—”

“Age restrictions are a good idea,” Hashirama agrees, and it’s not something he could have won from the other clans before, but—with Obito and Tobirama both on his side they might just have a chance. He thinks of Itama, as he does so often, and his death on that courier mission, and it hurts, but the ache is forward momentum, a push. He can smile at Obito through it, catch his wrist between his fingers and enjoy the way Obito's breath hitches, pulse kicking up just a little. “You're doing very good things here, Obito. Konoha is all the better for having you.”

For a moment, the expression on Obito's face twists painfully, grief and regret and pain, and he turns his face away. “I have to _try_ ,” he says. “I need— _something_ has to be for the better.”

He told Hashirama, once, about killing a man who threatened Konoha, who was conspiring against it because of an old grudge against the Senju and the Uchiha alike. Zetsu is most definitely dead now, but Hashirama thinks he might have had something to do with Obito's scars, with the way he rarely sleeps and instead wanders Konoha, flowers and trees and vines blooming under his fingers. Pain, guilt, and Hashirama knows them both well.

“It will be,” he says gently, and he’s been going so slowly, easing his way into Obito's life to see if there's room for him, a space in Obito's heart that will fit him. It’s such a strong heart, battered and worn but unfaltering, and Hashirama loves him with all the fierceness of the sun. Loves his mind, fierce and focused, his unyielding will, the way he smiles in their shared garden. Slow is good, but—

He tugs Obito to a halt, nudges him around. When Obito blinks up at him in surprise, confusion just starting to flicker across his face, Hashirama smiles at him. He lifts a hand to cup Obito's scarred cheek, and says, “This village is so much stronger with you in it, Obito.”

That twist, again, guilt and old anger, and Obito tries to look away. Before he can, Hashirama leans in, long hair swinging down to shield their faces, and rests his forehead against Obito's. His black eye widens, and Hashirama strokes his cheek across deep scars and says, “ _I_ am stronger with you here, Obito. You’ve reminded me of the reasons I wanted Konoha to exist in the first place, and all the things I have left to do.”

There's a shuddering breath, and Obito's eye slides shut. “I just—I want it to be _better_ ,” Obito says hoarsely.

Absolutely nothing in Hashirama can resist the urge to kiss him. Carefully, gently, he tips Obito's face up, tilts his head. There's a breath of surprise, but Hashirama catches his mouth, breathes in the sweetness of him, the green-and-earth-and-ash scent of his skin. His lips are soft, yielding, unpracticed, but Hashirama leads the kiss, eases him into it until Obito is kissing back, tentative but entirely enthusiastic.

Enough, Hashirama decides, and pulls back just a little, gathering Obito into his arms, slanting another kiss over the corner of his mouth, pressing a third to the corner of his eye. This is enough for now. Any more and Hashirama might want to push, and he won't.

Obito is trembling, just a little, but his hand is around Hashirama’s elbow, his arm around Hashirama’s waist, clinging like he doesn’t want to let go. When Hashirama presses his cheek to wild black hair, he makes a low, sharp sound and buries his face in Hashirama’s shoulder, fingers curling against his skin.

“It will be,” Hashirama promises him, and he can already see it. The foundations Obito is setting will dig roots deep into the earth, ready to last an age. _Konoha_ will last, a dream turned into reality, and whatever blood is spilled in its defense won't be the blood of children. Children will be _safe_ here, will be able to grow into themselves without death taking them too soon, and Hashirama loves the thought of it as much as he loves the man in his arms.


End file.
